


right now i'm completely defenseless

by anyadisee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyadisee/pseuds/anyadisee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi is just about to turn to the last page when he hears the snap of a shutter. He rolls his eyes; typical Oikawa to take selfies at the most random of times. He turns his head to tell Oikawa not to include him in the shot, when his gaze lands on the phone Oikawa is using.</p><p>“Oi!” Iwaizumi exclaims, tossing his magazine aside and lunging for the setter’s hand. “Give me my phone back!”</p><p>“Don’t want to, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa leaps out of the way and quickly scrambles up to his feet, running to the other side of the room while still taking a goddamn selfie. “You should be thankful! I’m improving your photo gallery by putting my handsome face in it.”</p><p> </p><p>[in which oikawa messes with iwaizumi's phone, and it's Not Weird At All to have your best friend's face as your homescreen]</p>
            </blockquote>





	right now i'm completely defenseless

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in hell
> 
> i have classes again starting tuesday next week, so i figured i'd get something out before i get buried in readings and papers again. i've actually had this written for a while now but was unsure if i should post it, but i'm in a Just Go For It kind of mood tonight so here it is!! :D
> 
> many thanks and much love to [The Bestest Friend Ever](http://sweetwherewelay.tumblr.com/) for reading through this for me!! ilu <3

There’s an insistent prodding against Iwaizumi’s side that makes his eye twitch.

“Iwa-chan. Pay attention to me, Iwa-chan. I’m bored. Iwa-chaaan.”

Very slowly, Iwaizumi closes the magazine he’s been reading. He takes a deep, steadying breath, fingers clutching tightly onto the edges of the magazine, before he quickly twists his body to the side and smacks the person sitting on the floor upside the head. The resulting smack is loud and very satisfying. Iwaizumi’s lips twitch up into a grin.

“Ow, what the – you’re so _mean_ , Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cries from where he’s now sprawled on his back, rubbing gingerly at his head. Iwaizumi just watches silently from his bed as the taller boy pushes himself back up into a sitting position, now pouting. “Why are you always so violent?”

“Why are you always so annoying?” Iwaizumi shoots back, leaning against his headboard and opening the magazine back to the page he’s been reading.

He hears an offended kind of gasp, and he glances out of the corner of his eye to find Oikawa staring at him with a hand clutched to his chest. How dramatic. “You don’t mean that, Iwa-chan! You _love_ having me around.”

“I tolerate having you around,” Iwaizumi responds. He flips a page. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s the weekend and I’m bored, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, in a tone that implies that this much is obvious and Iwaizumi is an idiot for even asking. “Let’s go play volleyball.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer immediately, staring at the page of the magazine but no longer reading it. He doesn’t even know why he’s _considering_ it all of a sudden, since he’s decided the night previous that he’d allow himself to have this one day doing nothing except have some well-deserved rest, but.

Oikawa.

That’s pretty much the explanation to everything disastrous in Iwaizumi’s life, really. It seems that whenever the setter is involved, nothing ever goes as planned. Iwaizumi doesn’t get why he always indulges his annoying best friend, especially at his own personal expense, but arguing with Oikawa is almost always a losing battle for him. And they both know that fact.

“Maybe later,” he finally answers, and he glances at Oikawa quickly to gauge his reaction. As expected, Oikawa’s got a satisfied kind of grin (almost a smirk really) plastered on his face, since they both also know that ‘maybe later’ is basically the same as ‘yes’. Iwaizumi’s fingers twitch with the instinctive urge to smack that grin off of Oikawa’s face, but he stops himself and just returns to his magazine.

Oikawa is quiet after that, appeased.

For about ten minutes, that is.

Iwaizumi is just about to turn to the last page when he hears the snap of a shutter. He rolls his eyes. Typical Oikawa to take selfies at the most random of times. He turns his head to tell his best friend not to include him in the shot, when his gaze lands on the phone Oikawa is using.

“Oi!” Iwaizumi exclaims, tossing his magazine aside and lunging for the setter’s hand. “Give me my phone back!”

“Don’t want to, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa leaps out of the way and quickly scrambles up to his feet, running to the other side of the room while _still_ taking a goddamn selfie. “You should be thankful! I’m improving your photo gallery by putting my handsome face in it.”

“My photo gallery is fine as it is, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi runs after Oikawa, arms outstretched and fingers poised to snatch his phone back. “Now hand it over.”

Instead of doing that, Oikawa makes a peace sign and winks, tongue poking out as he takes another selfie. A vein in Iwaizumi’s temple throbs in annoyance, and he quickly snatches his phone from Oikawa’s grip before the setter could take another picture.

Predictably, Oikawa pouts at him. “Iwa-chan! Why are you always so mean to me?”

This is a question that has been asked countless of times before. Iwaizumi’s answer always stays the same. “Because you’re annoying.”

He goes to his gallery and sees five selfies of Oikawa, each one sillier than the last. What frustrates Iwaizumi the most, though, is how good the setter looks in each one no matter what face he’s making. He’s just blessed with a face that can never be not attractive, it seems, features pretty and refined.

Not that Iwaizumi will ever admit to that out loud, gods no. Oikawa hears it enough on a daily basis from his countless of fans.

Suddenly there’s a body draped over his back, lanky limbs wrapping around his shoulders and a far too loud voice ringing directly into his ear. “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sing-songs, “I only did it because you wouldn’t pay attention to me.”

Iwaizumi jabs an elbow behind him.

Oikawa releases a pained grunt, arms loosening their hold slightly at the impact but not letting go. “Ouch, that _hurt_ – are you _deleting_ my selfies?”

“Naturally,” Iwaizumi shrugs Oikawa off and walks back to his bed. “I see your face every single day, and that’s more than enough already. I don’t need to see it when I look my phone.”

The pout is clear in Oikawa’s voice, even if Iwaizumi isn’t turned to see it. “Always so mean.”

Iwaizumi lets out a long sigh, locking his phone and letting it drop onto his bed. He frowns up at his best friend, who’s still standing by the opposite side of the room while holding onto his side. Probably where Iwaizumi had elbowed him.

Iwaizumi lets out another sigh, longer than the last. “Fine,” he mutters darkly. “We’ll play now.”

Oikawa brightens immediately at that, a stark contrast with the dark expression on Iwaizumi’s own face. He cheers, annoyingly loud, before skipping out of the room and throwing a “Meet you in the backyard, Iwa-chan~” over his shoulder.

Iwaizumi shakes his head to himself, but he can’t seem to stop his mouth from twitching into a smile, regardless. He feels annoyed with Oikawa as usual, but that annoyance has always been tinged with something else, something that makes the setter’s presence more bearable, something that is probably the product of years of being best friends with Oikawa Tooru (Iwaizumi would never, ever admit that it’s _fondness_ , not to himself, not to Oikawa, not to anyone. _Ever_. At least, not anytime soon. Oikawa doesn’t need to know that).

He picks up a volleyball from underneath his bed and glances at his phone one last time, staring for a moment. Another thing Oikawa doesn’t need to know is that Iwaizumi didn’t actually delete all of the selfies – for some reason, he decided to leave one in his gallery, a shot of Oikawa making a stupid peace sign at the camera while grinning wide enough to show all of his teeth, with Iwaizumi sitting in the background, an absentminded smile playing at the corner of his lips.

It’ll probably make a good home screen for his phone.

Oikawa doesn’t need to know about that, either.

*

“Iwa-chan!”

“What?”

“Why did you put a password on your phone?”

It’s hilarious watching Iwaizumi suddenly freeze in place, just as Hanamaki serves the ball from the other side of the court. He seems to have completely forgotten about receiving and whirls around to face Oikawa, who’s standing off to the side and fiddling with Iwaizumi’s phone.

“Trash Oika—” Iwaizumi doesn’t get to finish that insult because the ball comes flying then, directly to the back of his head. It’s a very rare occurrence, seeing Iwaizumi be the one getting hit instead of the one doing the hitting, and Oikawa treasures every second of it.

“Sorry!” Hanamaki calls from the other side of the court, sounding reasonably confused, partly amused, and not-really apologetic.

Iwaizumi’s expression darkens. Oikawa bursts out laughing. “Did _anyone_ manage to get that on camera? Please tell me someone did.”

Scattered tentative laughter rings out from other parts of the gym, mostly from people who are torn between being incredibly amused at this peculiar turn of events, in which Iwaizumi gets a taste of his own medicine, and being incredibly fearful of the ace’s wrath and frightening accuracy when it comes to hitting other people with basically any solid object he can put his hands on.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi finally says, voice dark. “What are you doing with my phone?” His face looks _deadly_ , and all laughter suddenly cease. Oikawa subtly glances towards the doors and measures the distance between him and the exit, then compares it to the distance between him and Iwaizumi. He thinks he has a pretty high chance at escape if ever Iwaizumi decides to lunge at him.

Which the ace _will_ , definitely. It’s inevitable, so Oikawa might as well provoke him more and have some fun.

“Aw, Iwa-chan,” he coos, noticing some of the first years smartly moving to the opposite court for their own safety, “I just wanted to surprise you with a picture of my beautiful face.”

Iwaizumi tilts his head, in that certain way that makes the younger members of the club steer clear of him and cower in corners. “Oikawa. Give me my phone back.”

Oikawa pretends to think about it while subtly angling his body towards the exits, ready to sprint any second now. “Not until you tell me your password!”

“Did it ever occur to you, just maybe, that I put a password because I don’t want _anyone_ using it for vain selfies aside from myself?”

Oikawa mock-gasps. “Iwa-chan! You take selfies? It’s a miracle your phone camera’s still intact, then!”

Iwaizumi’s eye twitches. Oikawa makes a run for it.

He doesn’t even need to check to see if Iwaizumi is following behind him. He can hear the loud and frankly terrifying sound of Iwaizumi running after him, clear as anything. It makes Oikawa’s blood race, and he feels his lips pulling up into a grin.

“Stop running and give me my phone back, Trashkawa!” Iwaizumi barks, and Oikawa jolts at how _close_ he sounds.

Oikawa ducks behind one of the school buildings suddenly, trying to look for a hiding place (the password’s a four-digit code, it won’t be that hard to figure out, maybe) when fingers close tightly around his arm, and then he’s being pushed back against the wall of the building, a hand _slamming_ onto the wall beside his head and preventing escape.

Iwaizumi is breathing heavily in front of him, gaze slightly tilted up to look Oikawa in the eye. “My phone. Now.”

Oikawa pouts, trying to ignore how close they suddenly are. “Are you hiding something in your phone, Iwa-chan? Nudes? Porn?” Iwaizumi glares, opening his mouth to retort, but Oikawa snaps his fingers before Iwaizumi can say anything. “Aha, I got it! Texts with a secret girlfriend! Or maybe a lovey-dovey wallpaper of you two!”

Iwaizumi’s face, already flushed from the exertion of running, turns an even deeper shade of red as though he’s _guilty_. Oikawa is dumbfounded for a second, eyes widening and a twinge of something sudden and bitter twisting in his chest, before he quickly regains his composure and smirks.

“That’s it, right, Iwa-chan? You’ve been hiding a girlfriend from me all this time? How mean! And I thought we were supposed to tell each other _everything_!”

Iwaizumi lets go of him and takes a step back, sputtering. “I – I’m not! I don’t have a girlfriend, dumbass!”

“I don’t believe you~” Oikawa sing-songs, even as that sudden bitter feeling returns. He refuses to acknowledge it as _jealousy_ , because that’s just ridiculous.

“I’m really not hiding a girlfriend from you! And if I _did_ have one, then why would I even keep it a secret?” Iwaizumi shouts, face still red.

“Then show me,” Oikawa says, lifting the phone between them. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not—”

“Liaaar. Iwa-chan, you liar. Just tell me your password!”

Iwaizumi gets that look on his face, the one that Oikawa’s come to known as the expression he makes whenever Oikawa’s making a ridiculous request and he’d really rather do literally anything else, but would give in and agree anyway. His brows furrow and his teeth grind together, and then he mutters the password underneath his breath.

“What was that?” Oikawa leans closer, not even teasing this time. He genuinely did not hear.

Iwaizumi grunts. And then, “Zero-four-zero-one.”

Oikawa stills, eyes widening slightly. 0401. That’s…

At a loss for once, Oikawa decides to turn to the only thing he had always used when faced with situations that seem out of his hand. Teasing.

“Aw, Iwa-chan. Do you really love me that much?”

He expects Iwaizumi to react violently to that. Or at least glare. But instead he keeps his gaze averted, face turning impossibly redder. Oikawa suddenly has second thoughts about typing the code in and seeing what Iwaizumi is hiding in his phone. But at the same time, he’s also curious (and _hopeful_ , thought for what exactly he doesn’t know) so he types the code in with a steady thumb that betrays just how fast his heart is racing.

Zero.

Four.

Zero.

One.

The phone unlocks, and.

The wallpaper. Iwaizumi’s home screen is a picture of Oikawa holding the phone out for a selfie, the ace sitting on the bed and looking resolutely at a magazine on his lap, although there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. Oikawa knows this picture. He took it just the last weekend, when he had been hanging out in Iwaizumi’s bedroom and bugging his best friend to pay attention to him.

“I thought you deleted them,” he says, finally. He doesn’t really know what else he could say.

Iwaizumi shrugs, feigning nonchalance even though his face is beet red. “Decided to keep that one.”

“But.” Oikawa blinks, truly at a loss for words. His own face is probably also flushed at this point, cheeks warm. “Why?”

Iwaizumi makes a frustrated noise, turning to glare at Oikawa. He can’t seem to hold his gaze for long, though, quickly looking away once more. “Do I need to have a reason? I liked the picture. That’s it.”

“But I thought you said you saw enough of me on a daily basis.”

“That’s still true,” Iwaizumi says, shifting from one foot to the other. “But – I kinda lied. Maybe. About the part where I said I don’t need to see your face on my phone anymore.”

Something flutters in Oikawa’s chest at that. He glances down at Iwaizumi’s phone again, staring at the picture, before smiling and returning the device to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi looks at him suspiciously, taking his phone back carefully and putting it in his pocket.

“Let’s get back to practice?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi nods, and they head back towards the gymnasium side by side. Neither of them say anything, even though the backs of their hands keep brushing against each other’s the entire time, and Oikawa feels something flutter in his chest.

Finally, when they reach the doors of the gymnasium, Oikawa stops Iwaizumi from entering with a gentle hand on the shoulder.

“Hey.”

Iwaizumi looks at him.

“Can you send me that picture later?”

Oikawa also wants to ask, _Can we talk later?_ but he can’t seem to make his mouth form the words. Fortunately, Iwaizumi seems to understand, because he gets a small, barely-there smile on his face (but it’s a genuine smile nonetheless) and nods.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [main tumblr](http://anyadisee.tumblr.com/)   
>  [haikyuu!! sideblog](http://akaaaashii.tumblr.com/)
> 
> come say hi!! i'm p much new and i have yet to make fandom friends :(
> 
> also: the title is a lyric from one direction's "if i could fly". an alternate title is: _now you know me, for your eyes only_ which is from the same song


End file.
